Thursday, March 30, 2017

When I first came out to Mitch and Craig in August of 2007
they recommended that I talk to my bishop about my feelings of same-sex
attraction. I agreed that that was a good idea, but since I was moving in a few
weeks I decided to wait until I was in my new ward. It took me three months to
get up the courage to make an appointment to meet with the bishop. When I
called the executive secretary to make the appointment he didn’t ask what the
visit was about, only if I’d like 15 minutes or 30 minutes. I didn’t know what
to expect so I said 30.

I recently reread my journal entry from the day I came out
to my bishop and I was nervous all day. I was petrified because I didn’t know
what he would say. When I arrived we made some brief small talk and then he
asked me what I wanted to talk about. Unable to look him in the eye I stared at
the floor as I told him I was attracted to men. He was extremely kind and validating.
He asked me a little about my experiences, assured me I could serve in the church
like anyone else, told me that he was still learning about this issue, and that was about it. We talked about my being gay for
around 5 minutes and then shot the breeze for another 15. I left early feeling
both relieved and confused that it hadn’t been a bigger deal. Part of me
expected him to give me a priesthood blessing that would cure me or at least some
sage advice that would reshape how I viewed the world, but he mostly just told
me that as long as I kept my covenants I could continue serving in the church.

Stock photo from lds.org. Not a picture of me.

I’ve come out to a number of bishops since then. They
typically ask me if I’m living the law of chastity, tell me they love me, and
that’s about it. Many of them have also encouraged me to continue dating women
and one bishop even set me up on a blind date with his daughter right after I
came out to him (I was confused by his timing). Another bishop recommended
that a date a lesbian in the ward (once again, quite confusing). After
explaining why I thought that was an awful idea he said, “Yeah, that might not
work out too well.” Even though none of them has ever said anything that was
particularly helpful or insightful, all of my interactions with my bishops
regarding being gay have been extremely positive. My current bishop even gave
me permission to come out to the ward in a talk and I’m so grateful that he didn't hesitate to allow me to do that.

Unfortunately I’ve met way too many people who have had
negative experiences coming out to their church leaders. One of my friends told me
that when she told her bishop she was gay his first response, “No, you’re not
gay.” Too often the conversation focuses on which terms are and aren’t appropriate to
use as labels instead of assessing the gay person’s emotional and spiritual
needs. I hear stories like this a lot, of bishops being very invalidating of
the gay Mormon experience. I’ve heard a number people say, “My bishop just doesn’t get
it,” after coming out to him. Often bishops do a lot of telling instead of
listening and learning.

I’ll be moving to Utah at the end of the summer and I'll be telling my new bishop that I’m gay. I’ve thought a lot about what I would
say if he says, “No, you’re not gay,” when I come out to him. So here’s what I
would do. I would tell the bishop to go to ministering.lds.org and have him
click on the “Same-Sex Attraction” tab under “Ministering Resources”. This is
an official site of the church and you need an lds.org login and a leadership
calling to access it. I would then have him read through the first five
paragraphs of that section together with me. Among other things these
paragraphs explain that labels mean different things to different people and
that it’s okay to identify as gay or lesbian. There are also little gems like
this: “The most important thing you can do after a member discloses feelings of
same-sex attraction is to listen and help them feel welcome.”

I’d then ask my bishop to scroll down to the next section
which is titled “Understand the Situation.” Unfortunately you need to click “expand
all” to see all the content. In this section there are some suggested questions
listed to better help the leader understand the situation. I would then invite my
bishop to ask me each of those questions:

Will you please tell me more about your experience? What is
this like for you?

How have these feelings affected your life? How have they
affected the lives of your friends and family?

How can I help you?

Would you like us to meet regularly to discuss this?

Labels have different meanings for different people. What
does the word gay (or lesbian, bisexual, SSA, and so on) mean to you?

Considering these questions will open the doors to what
would hopefully be a fruitful discussion and would avoid my having to listen to
ill-informed advice. And if I was feeling particularly bold I would have him scroll down to the section titled "Use Ward and Stake Resources." I'd point out the second bullet point in that section that says: "Consider discussing the issue in ward council or in a fifth Sunday lesson." Then I'd offer to help him teach that lesson and tell him that I've already done lessons on same-sex attraction in other wards. It's important that church leaders learn how to appropriately respond when church members come out to them. When I first came out to my bishop I was extremely
vulnerable. It was one of the most vulnerable and fragile moments of my life. I
would have been crushed if my bishop had invalidated my experiences instead of
responding with love and concern. From the stories I hear there are still many
leaders who do not know who to appropriately respond when someone comes out to
them. Thankfully the church has a resource to help them know what to do. If I
encounter an oblivious bishop I will simply direct him to that resource so that
he can learn with me.

Thursday, March 2, 2017

When I talk to straight Mormons about my experiences as a
gay Mormon they often try to find experiences in their lives that parallel
mine. I think this is a natural way to try to understand, but frequently their “parallels”
are nothing like my experiences. For example, a few days ago I said that I
kissed a girl and I didn’t like it and one woman immediately said, “My first
kiss was terrible, too.” She said this in a way that felt invalidating to my
experience. This conversation prompted me to write out the story of my first
kiss. I hope that you’ll try and put yourself in my shoes and in Emma’s shoes
and imagine what it would have been like for you to go through these
experiences.

I met Emma in the Salt Lake airport as we were both
traveling home from BYU for Christmas. She and I clicked instantly and when we returned
to BYU I took her on a few dates. Our third or fourth date was going to be a double
date with two of my close friends who knew I was gay. This was January 2008 and
I had only started coming out to people four months before so only a handful of
people even knew about my sexuality. But it felt unfair that the girl I was
trying to date would be the only person in the room who didn’t know that I was
attracted to men. So a few days before the date I mustered the courage to tell her.

I just reread my journal entry about coming out to her and,
oh wow, I can be really weird sometimes. Here’s part of what I wrote: “I told Emma
today about my SSA. She seems to be interested in me and I’m interested in her
and I thought she should know. I didn’t know where we should talk about it so I
picked her up after work and we drove to the temple parking lot. As we were
driving by the MTC she asked where we were going and I said that we were going
to EFO (express feelings openly) which is different than DTR (defining the
relationship).” Obviously 23-year-old me was quite the smooth talker.

Her first response after I came out to her was, “That sucks,”
said as a statement of fact. She was really understanding and gave me the
opportunity to open up about my experiences. She told me that she was willing
to give us a try and I said that I was, too, but that I wanted to take things
slowly. And so began my first real relationship.

We continued going on dates and one night when we were
talking on the phone and I asked her if we were dating (like I said, I was a
smooth talker. Smooth as jazz.) and she said yes, but that we weren’t
boyfriend/girlfriend because you have to hold hands to get that title. You have
to understand that for a 23-year-old Mormon boy it was of utmost importance to
me to find a wife and at this point in my life I had never even had a
girlfriend. I decided to seal the deal the next day by holding her hand while we
were walking to campus. As we walked I asked if I could hold her hand (because
you gotta get consent first), but she told me I shouldn’t because I wasn’t
attracted to her. I responded that I was working on that and that I did want to
hold her hand. In retrospect that was mostly true. It wasn’t so much that I
wanted to hold her hand, but that I wanted her to be my girlfriend.

So we interdigitated. And it was awkward. I was glad when we
arrived at our destination and I didn’t have to hold her hand anymore. That
night we watched a movie at my apartment and held hands again. I wrote my
feelings in my journal: “I’m not quite sure how I feel. I love Emma as a
person, but I’m just not that attracted to her. I’m going to keep moving
forward in the hope that I will develop more feelings for her. I really don’t
want to hurt her.” Holding hands got less uncomfortable, but it never felt
quite right to me.

A week later we were watching another movie (randomly the
first three movies we watched together all had Michelle Pfeiffer in them) and I
held her hand again. Halfway through the movie I didn’t want to hold her hand
any more, but I felt like I was now trapped for the whole movie. So I got up to
use the bathroom even though I didn’t have to go and folded my arms when I sat
back down. That night I wrote in my journal: “I got really frustrated with myself.
Here’s a girl who is perfect for me and I don’t find her attractive. I don’t
know what to do.”

More than a month passed and I still hadn’t kissed her. I’d
never kissed anyone and neither had she and she was beginning to get
understandably impatient. I knew I was supposed to kiss her, but I just couldn’t
get up the courage to do it. One night we went to a BYU men’s volleyball game together
and I thought it would be such a great story if I kissed her in the bleachers
while we were watching the game. I imagined quickly stealing a kiss and then
the whole crowd would cheer and it’d be awesome. She’d love my assertiveness
and it’d be a great story to tell our kids, but then there was that whole lack
of courage thing going on.

I took her home after the game and went back to my apartment
feeling so mad at myself for not being able to kiss her. I stewed for a few
minutes then grabbed my backpack and went back to her house. She was surprised and happy to see me. The two of us sat on her couch together and studied for a bit. We also talked about kissing and what it meant and
she assured me that it wasn’t a big deal. I knew that I needed to stop being
afraid and that I couldn’t leave without kissing her. When I stood up to leave
she stood up as well and we shared a brief, tender kiss. As I pulled away I
looked into her eyes and smiled. I then turned around to grab my backpack and
the smile faded from my face and with my head turned from her I let my real
emotions show on my face. I started shaking as I grabbed my backpack. As I
turned to face her I put a fake smile back on my face and tried to control the
shaking so she wouldn’t notice the discomfort I was feeling. I gave her a hug
and left her house.

As soon as the door shut I started running to my car. As I
ran I said to myself out loud, “What have I done? What have I done? What have I
done?” I sat in my car and felt like garbage. I felt like I had just lied to
her. That I had expressed something that I didn’t really feel. When I got home
I told my roommates I had kissed her and they were all excited and I feigned
excitement as well. The next day I was back at Emma’s house talking to her
roommates before she got home. They told me that they had heard all about the
kiss and how magical it was from Emma. They were so giddy about it, but the
thought that kept running through my brain was, “She and I did not experience
the same thing.”

I kissed Emma a few more times hoping I’d like it more, but
I didn’t. Not long after our first kiss I got the flu and was grateful I had an
excuse to not kiss her. And then not long after that she broke up with me. I
was pretty upset and very hurt. I loved having her in my life and losing that
relationship was painful. I had told her I loved her and that was true, but one
of my first thoughts after she dumped me was to hope that she’d be single for a
long time so she’d regret breaking up with me. How’s that for love, huh? When
you love someone, you don’t hope that they’ll be filled with regret, but that’s
what I hoped for. At the time I didn’t realize how selfish I was being.

Loving a woman as a gay man is complicated. A month after Emma
broke up with me I moved to Mexico for a summer internship. During the trip my
hair gel exploded in my bag covering my journal and rendering some other books
in my bag unsalvageable. When I saw my journal covered in goo my first thought
was, “Oh no! Emma!” All of my memories of her were written in that book and I
was terrified of losing the record of a relationship that had meant so much to
me. I was so relieved when I realized that, though damaged, the journal was still
readable. I missed her terribly. I missed having her in my life. She had become
my best friend. However, the relationship was problematic because I loved
spending time with her, but the pressure to show physical affection made me so
uncomfortable.

As years passed and as I matured I learned that if you
really care for someone you’ll want what’s best for them. And I wasn’t the best
thing for Emma. She deserved someone who could love her in ways that I couldn’t,
someone who could be more than just a great friend.When she finally did get married I didn’t
feel an ounce of jealousy, hurt, or regret. All I felt was happiness for my
friend and her happiness. And I was glad that she dumped me because it was the
best thing for both of us.

I can’t say enough nice things about Emma. She is kind,
witty, smart, accomplished, and legitimately made me a better person. We haven’t
spoken face to face since 2012, but her influence in my life is incalculable.
In 2014, months before I had any intention of coming out on my blog I sent her an
essay I had written that later became my coming out post. Her response was to
quote Esther 4:14 “For if thou altogether holdest thy peace at this time, then
shall there enlargement and deliverance arise to the Jews from another place;
but thou and thy father’s house shall be destroyed: and who knoweth whether
thou art come to the kingdom for such a time as this.” That scripture hit me
like a ton of bricks and it stirred in me a desire to speak, to no longer hold
my peace. Emma unknowingly inspired me with part of the courage I needed to be
more vocal. In my prayers tonight I will be thanking God for Emma’s presence in
my life.

Perhaps your first kiss was uncomfortable just like mine was.
Perhaps you felt awkward holding someone’s hand for the first time. Perhaps you
loved someone selfishly like I did. If that’s what you experienced, I hope you
were able to overcome those feelings and form a healthy, stable relationship.
But please know that the challenges that gay people face who are seeking to be
in mixed-orientation relationships are not the same as the struggles faced by typical
heterosexual couples. There are added layers of complexity and complication that
make them inherently challenging, but not impossible. That said, I’m extremely
grateful for my relationship with Emma. For the good times we had, for the
laughs we shared, and for the lessons I learned.